Daily Gratitude

Thank-FULL Magnificence

November. The anniversary of my circle around the sun. The Gregorian calendar year is coming to a close. I reflect on my life and refine my vision of days to come...

...following my heart, listening to my inner wisdom, honoring the Earth and all she provides, loving my family, connecting to Spirit, feeling Joy, offering gratitude...

...and a prayer that I might continue to see through the eyes of a child, in awe and wonder, marvel at the magnificence of the trees, the mountains, or a soaring eagle,

and experience the joy of loving myself so my cup overflows and uplifts others.

In the U.S.A., we are reminded each year to give thanks at this time. My query is consistent. Does anyone remember why we celebrate Thanksgiving? What are we giving thanks for? Who came before us that we are following? The traditional First Grader's story of course comes to mind, Native Indians and Pilgrims sitting around a long wooden table adorned with colorful corn  potatoes, and a roasted turkey (not). I am more inspired by the women who embarked on long journeys across oceans or Midwest plains with their families, providing food, shelter, and comfort while enduring what we consider now to be unimaginable living conditions and hardships. I am reminded that our current "freedoms" in this country did not come without the sacrifice of many native peoples and European settlers alike. 

This Thanksgiving, take the time to recognize all that you have in your life. Keep it simple. Consume only what you need. Be kind to yourself. Honor your body temple. Appreciate family and friends who gather around your table, without having to overindulge, compensate, or bargain. Consider eating lighter, juicing, or even fasting to balance these energies and to acknowledge our ancestors who surely did not have the “super-size” feast we have grown into. Bountiful does not mean “more than enough”. 

Healthier Thanksgiving Recipes here

For both the colonists and the Algonquin tribes, the November Full Moon was the time to set beaver traps before the swamps froze, to ensure a supply of warm winter furs. Native peoples revered beavers as a Great Spirit animal and they held big medicine. They were the builders of their own life. Something we all strive to be.

This is a time to prepare for the calm and quiet of the impending winter, to bring all things to a point of rest. Finish up on the projects of the summer and fall. This is the last moon of action for the year. Join the Thank-FULL Moon Celebration Wednesday, November 25, 2015 at 6 pm EST.

A family favorite done to video by peoplepassion:

Thanks a Lot

Words and Music by Raffi

© 1980 Homeland Publishing

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the sun in the sky

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the clouds so high

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the whispering wind

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the birds in spring

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the moonlit night

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the stars so bright

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the wonder in me

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the way I feel

Thanks for the animals, thanks for the land

Thanks for the people everywhere

Thanks a lot

Thanks for all I’ve got

Thanks for all I’ve got

Blessed Be, all!

C

Riverside Dining

What is it about “nature” that intimidates people so? The responses from clients when asked “What do you like to do outside?” seem to be sadly typical of the general working populace: “There is no nature where I work/live/am.” “It’s too hot/cold/windy/rainy out there.” “I don’t have time to be just staring at some birds.” “My knee/hip/back/pain limits my activity.”

In my recent visit to Branson, Missouri, I encountered the typical navigational challenges while making my way down the too-narrow main street filled with vehicles jostling for position, their passengers looking and pointing at the myriad eateries and attractions, as tourists do.

I quickly realized that my heart was not in the tourist game, especially on a warm and humid day in June. I managed to go with the flow of traffic toward what seemed like the edge of the city only to find a shopping mall, a parking garage, a train station, and a Bass Pro Shop. My hands were gripping the steering wheel, my shoulders were tight, and I felt my blood pressure rising. Breathing deeply, I focused on the road beyond the crowded crosswalk. I saw water! Sure enough, nestled on the southeast side of the city was a parking lot right on the White River!

Rock cliffs rose up on the eastern side of the river, two bridges traversed the moderate expanse and a small RV park was underneath the one closest to my right. I sighed deeply as I relaxed into the surroundings, feeling much less tense. My car positioned at the water’s edge, I pulled out organic veggies and hummus from the cooler and settled in to enjoy a riverside repast.

Visitors came and went in the parking lot, a traveling family also came to dine, a tram tour made its turnaround, boaters cruised up and down the river, 

a duck boat tour squawked a narrative as it passed by and soon a fisherman waded into the water to my left, startling the blue heron that had been sentry near the shore. 

Swallows flitted and chased, pigeons sat on the overhead wires, and a father mallard was coaching his brood in the art (and science to be sure) of swimming.

Three times the sky darkened and light rain fell, causing a beautiful mist to rise off the water, swallowing the heron.

Canada geese glided by undeterred, and I marveled at the beauty of raindrops as they hit the water.

I gave silent thanks to the city, town, county, state, and national parks and the caretakers of the grounds, plants, and trees that adorn our waterways, village streets, and parking lots with nature attractants. They are not recognized enough for providing healing places for humans to be. All we have to do is expand our awareness to see and experience the calming influence of the natural world surrounding us.

Alive!

Where does the time go in the Spring??? It is SO amazing out there right now! Have you stepped out onto Terra Mater and felt her earth between your toes, or allowed your feet to sink into a lush bed of moss?

I have been consumed in cleaning winter's debris, dried leaves, last year's untrimmed growth, and broken branches, then replenishing mulch in the gardens. The front yard stream "The River Shakti" is running, the back yard pond is half-emptied, dredged, and awaiting rainfall to re-fill it (much to the chagrin of the resident frogs).

Partridgeberry is alive and well, Thyme-leaved Speedwell harkens to a simpler time, and forget-me-nots...well, you know the drill.

The "johnnies" have resumed their undeterred, colorful presence among the formal garden rock mulch, and this week the delicate dwarf ginseng rose above masses of decaying leaves.

And oh, the ferns! So many sizes, shapes, and colors all unfolding just as they are meant to, in their own unique way, and at their own pace. It is truly a sight to behold! We are conducting "fern trail tours" this weekend, May 15-16 at Fiddlehead Grove Retreat and Healing Center. Click here for more info. Here's a sneak peak:

The burdock, mullein, purple trillium, painted trillium, and Canada Mayflower return for another round (complete with a damselfly bluet), and some new woodland bellflower friends have joined us this year.

Heal-all, ground ivy, and wild bleeding heart are some of my favorites!

So, what are you waiting for? Get out there and soak in Mother Nature's bounty and beauty. You may be surprised how much it mimics so much of our own "human nature" and helps to heal what may be "ailing" us!

Retake: An Iron on the Floor

Friday I traveled northward from South Padre Island, Texas toward the eventual departure destination of Houston. Anticipating my first tub bath in over six weeks, a four-pound carton of Epsom salts rode shotgun. I arrived at the half-way point on North Padre Island to find that the guided bird walk at Mustang Island State Park was cancelled due to blustery conditions.

Bundled in a long-sleeved shirt, hoodie, raincoat, and gloves, I donned my binoculars for my own “look-sea”. Silly girl. Only a handful of gulls and some brave house sparrows managed to stay grounded enough to peck in the sand for food. I did meet a merry threesome of ladies from Minnesota acting like they had never seen the ocean. With my finger inadvertently on some special button, the camera phone whipped out 27 shots of the auspicious occasion (of which I have none)!

 I continued to explore up and down beach access roads and rain-made marshes along Mustang Island. I spotted many of my favorite shorebirds: Ibis, Common terns, Willets, and a lineup of Great Blue Herons and Snowy Egrets! 

The day soon grew darker and I decided to check into the hotel and prepare for the long-awaited bath. I shed my layers and placed toiletries at their stations, shotgun Epsom at the ready. Plenty of time for a shower to fix my hair, then a bath after dinner, I planned. I turned the shower handle to midway between blue and red. Cool water. I pushed the handle to mid-red. Still cool. I pushed the handle as far as it would go. A little warmer. Okay, so it needs to run longer to warm up, I muttered. Standing in naked anticipation, I waited. I opened the sink faucet to red. Lukewarm. Five minutes more. I checked the shower water. Nope. I called the front desk clerk who called the maintenance guy. Thirty minutes later came a knock on the door. So I had to get (re)dressed. He tested both faucets, stepping on the clean bathmat all the while (my facial grimace was not pretty).

He quickly departed, stating he knew the source of the problem and that he would return. I made a phone call and rearranged my suitcase. Tick, tock it was five o’clock! I calmly resolved to get dressed and have dinner. On the way out, I inquired about the status of my hot water. “It’s fixed,” was the clerk's reply. I reported that the water was still cold and that the fix-it fella had not returned. “It has to run longer (than ten minutes) when there are so few people here, and we just had a new water pump installed. He probably went to the Holiday Inn to get more tools,” she offered. At this point, I assigned my angels to the case and set out to find a “Doc’s margarita”.  

I followed the GPS to the water’s edge and onto the causeway. “Take exit,” it said. A short gravel road took me under the bridge to narrow beach where I found a family of stray cats, laughing gulls (yes, loudly laughing), some fishermen, and a flock of White Pelicans! I snapped a few shots of them and the sweet GPS lady said, “Get out of the car and walk to your destination.” 

I looked up and saw neon lights spelling “Doc’s Seaside”. Too bad there was a several hundred feet of water between us! 

Back in the car and over the bridge I went to the second “troll road”, this time leading to the treasure: a real bird’s-eye view, amazing food, and my last island margarita! 

The return to the hotel was joyfully uneventful and the clerk, who readily recognized me as “room 222”, assured me that the hot water was fixed. With sweet anticipation, I juggled a full 1.5 liter bottle of water, a small purse, a dessert box (for later), a notebook, and the keycard to open the door. No green light. Again... Nope. And why is there an iron in the way? Downstairs at the desk, I held up my card. She didn't even ask, just re-swiped it and handed it back. Got it. I picked up the water bottle and the iron (I had not trusted the dessert alone on the floor while I was gone), then checked the closet. There was already an iron hanging on the wall. Hot water? In thirty seconds. Yes!

Sinking into the hot water, I heard the blup, blup of the tub's overflow and I was there! I rejoiced as I envisioned happy little magnesium cells swimming through my skin and into my bloodstream.

While an iron sat outside the door on the floor.